


Goodbye

by princecaviar



Series: Goodbye, My Dear [1]
Category: Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, But Mark won't let him, Damien is very tired and frustrated and just wants to help, I have a theme in my recent works huh?, M/M, Mark is incredibly sad, Possession, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:42:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22799518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princecaviar/pseuds/princecaviar
Summary: Mark didn't handle Damien's departure well.
Relationships: Damien | The Mayor/Mark Fischbach
Series: Goodbye, My Dear [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1655203
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

  * For [noxstories](https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxstories/gifts).



> I'm going to preface this by saying that this is incredibly dark. Major major warnings here, folks. This contains a scene of Mark explicitly killing himself, no fades to black or anything. Don't tread here if you're sensitive to this. 
> 
> On that note- I'd like to dedicate this fic to C'mon by Panic at the Disco feat. Fun, which got me through the night while writing this. I would not have survived otherwise. Apologize for any errors- I'm very tired.

“I can’t keep doing this, Mark. You need to make a choice: Either get an exorcism, or I’m leaving you.”

“Damien, you’re overreacting. It’s _fine_ ! _I’m_ fine! There’s no need for all- all _this_!” Mark threw his hands up in a show of frustration and drama, voice echoing just a bit in the spacious entrance hall. Damien crossed his arms, glaring at his boyfriend.

“Mark, _nothing_ about this is fine. I was content to ignore it at first, to- to just brush it all aside. To pretend it was better. For a while, I thought it _was_ better. But Mark, it’s worse than ever,” he said. “I can _feel_ It! It-it feels like a thick oppressive weight laying over this entire God damned house.”

“Dames, don’t be ridiculous,” Mark huffed. “It’s fucking _fine_. C’mon, please, just put your stuff away. I’ll have Benjamin make the tiny sandwiches, and we can do anything you like today, darling. Just- please, don’t do this.” Mark’s voice wavered imperceptibly, betraying just the tiniest bit of the fear and sadness behind his carefully crafted mask. Damien shook his head, looking at Mark sadly.

“Mon chéri, I _can’t_ -” Damien’s voice cracked, and he closed his eyes against the tears threatening to spill out. “I can’t. I can’t keep going. Mark _please_ , just help me get rid of It, _please_ . It _scares_ me, Mark! I don’t- What if It tries to make you kill yourself again? Or what if It- If It-” he shook his head, unable or unwilling to finish his sentence.

“It won’t, darling, I promise it won’t. It was just curious, It knows now that what It did was wrong. Please, Dames, _please_ , let’s just go have lunch or something,” Mark begged. “Don’t keep drawing this out. It’s _fine_ , I _promise_.”

“Mark,” Damien said, and though his voice was still wavering just a little bit his tone was firm. “I need you to- To make a choice. Am I going, or are you getting an exorcism?”

“Dames, don’t make me choose something like that, please.”

“Mark, _please_ , just tell me! Just pick!”

“Dames I _can’t_ , I _won’t_ , please, just stop,” Mark pleaded. Damien took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Then I’m leaving, Mark. I’m sorry.” Damien was full-on crying by now, tears sliding down his face as he picked up his suitcase from where it had been at his side.

“Dames, darling, _please_ don’t go, _please_ , don’t leave me alone like this, _PLEASE_ !” Mark begged, watching tearfully as Damien walked out the door without a backward glance, an eerie echo of Celine’s departure 8 months ago. Mark fell to his knees, desperate sobs wracking his body. The Entity was conspicuously absent, leaving Mark feeling helplessly, _horribly_ alone. He sat there for what felt like hours, sobbing so hard at times that it felt like he couldn’t _breathe_ . Damien had just _left_ him, he was alone _again_ , he thought they were _fine_ ! How could this _happen_?

Eventually, Benjamin came to retrieve him, gently helping Mark to his feet and guiding him to his bedroom, where Mark collapsed on his bed exhaustedly, curling up into a ball as a few stray tears continued to slip from his eyes. Benjamin quietly slipped out of the room, and the last thing Mark heard before he passed out was the muted murmurs of Ben’s speech just outside his door.

* * *

When Mark awoke it was dark, the only light in the room the dim moonlight streaming through the windows. It took half a second to remember- why was he still in his clothes? Why was he cold? -before reality came crashing down on him again. Damien was _gone_ , and he _wasn’t coming back_ , and **_it was Mark’s fault_ ** . Mark sobbed dryly, his tears long since spent. He curled himself into an even tighter ball, wrapping his arms around himself the best he could. Dames was _gone_ and Mark was _alone_ again, alone with the ever-present voice whispering in his ear- though even that was gone now. Some dim corner of Mark’s mind wondered where it had gone. For the most part, he didn’t care.

  
Mark lay there for a while, curled up and fermenting in his misery and despair, loneliness gnawing an _ache_ into his chest. He didn’t think so much as he drifted, varying between now-bittersweet memories of him and Damien and a seemingly endless pool of self-hatred.

Eventually, a single true thought bubbled up out of the pool:

_‘I should kill myself. Clearly I’m unloveable. I should just… die.’_

Mark nodded absently to himself. Yes... yes, that sounded like a good idea.

* * *

It didn’t take that long to prepare. A chair filched from the dining room, the belt of his favorite robe tied in a slip-knot, and his shirts scattered across the floor- leaving the bar in his wardrobe empty and free.

He hummed as he set everything in place, some mindless tune that he was fairly certain he’d picked up from Damien. He let out a choked laugh at that thought and started to set up faster.

It was done before long. Mark gave the belt an experimental tug, nodding in satisfaction when it held fast. Good. Hopefully, it was enough to hold his weight without breaking over time. The belt, that is. The bar itself was metal, welding to the sides of the wardrobe. _That_ wasn’t breaking any time soon. Mark stepped up on the chair, brushing a hand against the belt almost affectionately, as though it were a beloved pet. He slipped the knot around his throat, starting to hum the cheerful tune again as an almost electric feeling filled his body. Taking a steadying breath, Mark kicked the chair-

And woke up on the floor, the first vestiges of sunlight starting to trickle in through the windows. Mark started to lift his head to look around in bewilderment when a white-hot bolt of agony shot through his head, making Mark whimper in pain. It took him 15 minutes to be able to lift himself into a sitting position, pain shooting through his head at random intervals. He looked over at the wardrobe, brow furrowed in both pain and confusion. The make-shift noose was still there, and the chair was kicked over. If Ben had found him and “rescued” him, he wouldn’t have woken up on the floor. So how…?

**Didn’t I tell you I would make you immortal?**

Mark startled at the Entity’s voice, wincing as that caused another streak of pain to shoot through his head.

 _What happened? Did you- Did you stop me?_ **_Why_ ** _? I wanted to die. I still_ **_do_ ** _. Why would you_ **_stop_ ** _me?_

**I can’t lose my star so soon! We have big plans still, little star. You need to be alive for them. Besides, as I said- I did promise you immortality. Don’t cry again, little star, it’s alright.**

_I don’t want immortality anymore, I don’t want to live forever, I don’t want to live at_ **_all_ ** _! I don’t… I don’t want to be alone…_

**It’s alright, little star. You won’t be. I have a plan for us, okay? We’ll make William pay, and you’ll never be alone again. Doesn’t that sound like a good plan, little star?**

_I… Do you promise I won’t be alone?_

**I promise, little star.**

_...Okay. I trust you._


End file.
